It was peak summers in Bhopal. But the heat and burning sun didn't matter to Aditi this time.

For the past month, her phone had become her most prized possession. She was currently sprawled across her bed, her feet kicking back and forth in the air, a massive grin plastered on her face.

The screen showed a WhatsApp chat that seemed to never end. What started as "Reached safely" had turned into a daily ritual of morning greetings, afternoon updates about work, and late-night confessions about their favourite movies.

Siddharth, the man who once replied in one-word sentences, was now sending her paragraphs. He would tell her about a difficult client he dealt with, and she would send him voice notes of her laughing about a cat she saw on the street. They haven't confessed their yet, but the air between Bhopal and Delhi was thick with it.

Aditi chuckled softly as she read his latest message.

Sarthak is wearing my blue shirt again. I told him to give it back, and he said he's branding it for me. As if koi bhut bada celebrity ho. Is every younger sibling this annoying?

(As if some big celebrity.)

She started typing back, her thumbs moving across the keyboard.

Hahaha! Jaane do na bechare ko. At least he has good taste in clothes! That blue shirt is actually very nice.

(Let it be.)

She was so lost in her bubble that she didn't hear the heavy footsteps in the hallway. The door to her room creaked open, and the bubble burst instantly.

Aditi sat up straight, hiding her phone behind her back like a guilty teenager. Her mother stood in the doorway. As usual, Sunita didn't come in to sit or ask how Aditi's day was going. She just stood there, her face unreadable, her arms crossed.

"Aditi, niche aao. Tumhare Papa aur mujhe tumse kuch baat karni hai."

(Aditi, come downstairs. Your father and I want to talk to you.)

Her mother said, her tone flat. Aditi's heart sank. Usually, when her parents wanted to talk, it meant a lecture about her future or a complaint about her spending too much time at the neighbour's house.

"Kya hua, Maa? Sab thik hai?"

(What happened, Maa? Is everything ok?)

Aditi asked, standing up slowly.

"Ek rishta aaya hai tumhare liye."

(There is an alliance for you.)

Her mother replied, turning around to walk back to the living room. Aditi went numb. The word rishta felt like a bucket of ice water poured over her.

Her mind immediately went to the stories she had heard about her mother's own marriage, a forced decision, a compromise, a life of silence. Was this it? Was her father finally going to marry her off to some stranger to fulfil a social duty?

She followed her mother into the living room. Her father was sitting on the sofa, holding a cup of tea. He looked at her, and for once, his gaze wasn't dismissive. It was serious, but not cold.

"Aditi, baitho."

(Aditi, sit.)

Her father said. Aditi sat on the edge of the single-seater sofa, her hands trembling in her lap.

"Papa... main abhi shaadi nahi karna chahti. Main apne kaam pe focus kar rahi hu-"

(Papa...I don’t want to get married yet. I want to focus on my work-)

"Pehle puri baat suno."

(First listen to me.)

Her father interrupted, though not unkindly.

"Rishta Mr. and Mrs. Gupta ne bheja hai."

(Mr. and Mrs. Gupta have sent the alliance.)

Aditi's breath hitched.

"Nanu? Lekin..."

(But…)

"Unke bade pote ka rishta hai. Siddharth."

(Their elder grandson. Siddharth.)

Her mother added, finally sitting down next to her husband.

"Unhone kaha ki Siddharth ne khud unse baat ki. He wants to marry you."

(They said Siddharth talked to them.)

The world seemed to stop spinning. Aditi stared at her mother, her jaw slightly open. The fear that had been gripping her heart vanished, replaced by a heat that rushed to her cheeks.

Siddharth? Her Siddharth? The serious, disciplined, quiet man from Delhi had actually gone to his grandparents and asked them to send a formal proposal to her parents?

"Siddharth ne... unhone kaha?"

(Siddharth…he said?)

Aditi whispered, her voice barely audible.

"Haan."

(Yes.)

Her father said, clearing his throat.

"Mujhe laga tha tum mana karogi, par Gupta ji ne kaha ki tum dono ki dosti achhi hai. He's a well-settled boy, good family. Humne socha tumse puch lein."

(I thought you might deny, but Gupta ji said you were friends….We thought of asking you once.)

Aditi felt like she was floating. For years, she had felt like a burden in this house. She had expected her parents to pick someone she hated just to get it over with. But Siddharth had stepped in. He had bridged the gap between their worlds in the most traditional, respectful way possible.

She looked at her parents. For the first time, she saw a flicker of relief in her mother's eyes, as if she was happy that her daughter wouldn't end up in a loveless house like hers.

"Maa... Papa..."

Aditi started, a shy smile breaking through her shock.

"Mujhe koi problem nahi hai. I... I'm ready."

(I don’t have any problem.)

Her mother nodded slowly.

"Thik hai. Hum unhe bata denge."

(Ok. We will let them know.)

The moment she was back in her room, Aditi slammed the door and leaned against it, breathing heavily. She felt like she could run a marathon. She grabbed her phone from the bed. The chat was still open.

She typed with shaking fingers.

Siddharth!!! Ye kya tha? My mom just came into my room and told me about the proposal! Are you crazy? Aapne Nanu se baat ki?

(What was this?....You talked to Nanu?)

She stared at the screen. One tick. Two ticks. Blue ticks. He was reading it. But he didn't type back. One minute passed. Five minutes. Ten.

Reply toh karo! I'm dying here!

(At least reply!)

She sent another message. Suddenly, her phone started vibrating in her hand. The caller ID showed a picture she had secretly taken of him while he was looking at the lake in Bhopal, serious and handsome.

She picked up on the third ring, her voice caught in her throat.

"H-hello?"

"Hi."

Siddharth's voice came through. It was deeper than usual, carrying a weight that made her heart skip a beat.

"Hi? Bas hi?"

(Just hi?)

Aditi giggled, though she felt like crying with joy.

"Siddharth, aapne itna bada step le liya aur mujhe bataya bhi nahi?"

(Siddharth, you took such a big step and didn’t even inform me?)

There was a short silence on the other end. She could hear him taking a deep breath.

"I wanted to do it the right way, Aditi."

He said, his voice steady now.

"I didn't want us to just be chatting forever. I wanted your parents to know that I'm serious about you."

Aditi sat down on the floor, leaning her head against the bed.

"Lekin... aapne socha nahi ki main kya kahungi? What if I said no?"

(But…did you think what I would say?)

Siddharth let out a soft, rare chuckle.

"I had a feeling you wouldn't. Par agar tum mana karti, toh main Bhopal aa kar tumhe mana leta. I'm a lawyer, remember? Mere arguments bohot strong hote hain."

(But if you would have denied, I would have convinced after coming there….My arguments are very strong.)

Aditi smiled, a tear finally escaping and rolling down her cheek.

"You're impossible."

"Aditi..."

He said, his tone shifting. The playfulness was gone, replaced by a raw, naked honesty.

"Listen. I don't just want to be your friend. Main chahta hu ki tum meri life ka hissa bano. I want to build a home with you where there's no silence. Main tumhe woh sab dena chahta hoon jo tum deserve karti ho, a family that loves you, a house where you can be as loud and bubbly as you want, and someone who will always listen to your stories."

(I want you to become a part of my life….I want to give you everything you deserve…)

Aditi sobbed quietly, covering her mouth with her hand.

"I like you a lot, Aditi. No, actually, it's more than that."

He whispered.

"Kya tum mere saath apni life spend karogi? Will you give me a chance to make you happy?"

(Will you spend your life with me?)

Aditi wiped her eyes, a radiant smile appearing through her tears.

"Siddharth... maine Maa ko bol diya hai. I'm ready. Main kabse ready hoon."

(Siddharth…I told Maa. I’m ready. I have been ready since long.)

She replied, her voice filled with a childlike excitement.

"But aapko pata hai na? I'm very high maintenance. Mujhe bohot saari baatein karni hoti hain. Sun paayenge?"

(But you know? I’m very high maintenance. I have to talk a lot. Will you be able to listen?)

"I know."

Siddharth said, and she could hear the genuine, wholehearted smile in his voice.

"And I promise, main zindagi bhar sirf tumhe hi sununga."

(And I promise, I will only listen to you all my life.)

"Sach mein?"

(Really?)

"Sach mein. Take care of yourself, Aditi. I'll see you very soon."

(Really.)

"I'll miss you."

She whispered.

"I'll miss you too."

As she hung up the phone, Aditi looked at the silver bracelet on her wrist. The little heart charm caught the light. She wasn't just a girl from a cold house anymore. She was a woman who was loved by a man who understood her silence and cherished her noise.

She looked out her window at the Gupta house across the street. The lights were on, and she knew that soon, that warmth would be her permanent reality. She leaned her head back and laughed, a loud, genuine, happy laugh that filled every corner of her once-silent room.